


Christmas in the Caribbean (A Toccoa Cruise Line Story)

by a_quick_drink



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cruise Ship, Christmas, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: There was nothing merry about Christmas aboard the Toccoa Atlantica as far as Web was concerned, but a chance encounter with his long-time crush might just change his mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is only one story of potentially many among the _Atlantica_ , _Pacifica_ , and _Cimmeria_ ships of Toccoa cruise line, though I can't say if or when I'll add more. Whatever happens, I hope you'll at least enjoy this little glimpse of possibility! :)

There was nothing merry about Christmas aboard the _Toccoa Atlantica_ as far as Web was concerned. Sure he'd traded the wintry wonderland of the east coast for the Caribbean, but the trade-off was longer hours catering to passengers who'd done the same. The spike in passengers also meant more viruses floating around and more ill crew members who needed time off. Being part of the waitstaff who spent considerable time with the passengers, it was a small miracle he’d so far avoided getting sick or picking up extra duties. And the holiday season was only the beginning. As one of three ships from a young premium cruise line, the _Atlantica_ would remain at or near capacity until well into August when hurricane season hit its peak and deterred cruisers.

Dead on his feet, Web loosened his tie as he trudged back to his cabin. Rules dictated he was supposed to remain presentable until out of guest areas, but this deck was comprised entirely of cabins. No entertainment meant little foot traffic throughout the day, and now it was a ghost town with the night’s after-dinner show going on in the theater one deck up. His boss would have a fit if he caught him, but looking presentable was the last thing on his mind as he unbuttoned his vest. _Take that, Martin._

Passing through the doors separating the crew and guest areas was like entering another world. Neutral-colored linoleum instead of patterned carpet lined these halls, and the greater width meant shallower cabins they had to share with at least one other crew member. Several rooms had their doors propped open for visitors, a mishmash of music, television, and conversation from them creating the waking hours soundtrack.

Hoots and cheers came from Muck and Penkala’s room as he passed.

“Hey, Web!” Liebgott crowed, poking his head out. “Come join us!” He flashed Web a goofy grin and motioned for him. Web cracked a smile but shook his head at his roommate.

Fun as it was spending time with them, he only wanted to drop into his bunk and pass out, and he'd get a good head-start for once with Liebgott entertained. It’d be a shame to waste the precious quiet time only on sleeping, but his writing could wait until tomorrow when he got some time off while the ship was docked in San Juan.

As visions of _mallorcas_ danced in his head, he didn't see Shifty come around the corner until they'd almost collided.

“Web, there you are!” _Oh no._ There was nothing anybody needed him for right now, and that desperate look in his friend's eyes could only mean that luck was about to change. “Look, I—I know you’ve been busy, but you’re the last person I can ask.” Shifty ducked his head. “They scheduled me for room service tonight even though I’d requested it off to spend time with Tab, and I—”

Web threw up a hand to stop him. “I’ll take your shift.” He internally cringed, but it was no secret that tonight was Shifty and Tab’s second anniversary. The two were already like an old married couple, and there was a secret wager among their friends whether they'd make it official tonight. Though he hasn't contributed, Web's money would be on Tab popping the question. No way was he letting his friend miss whatever happened.

Shifty’s face lit up brighter than the giant Christmas tree in the atrium and he flung his arms around Web’s neck. “Oh gosh, Web, thank you! If you ever need anything just ask.”

Web clapped him on the back. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

Room service turned out to be more torturous than he'd imagined. Not because it was all he could do to stay upright and conscious—he had enough caffeine buzzing through his system to take care of that—but because it underscored how single he was, something he usually had no problem pushing out of mind. Not even trading his free time so Shifty could be with his boyfriend bothered him; nobody deserved it more and Web was truly happy for them. By the last delivery, though, he felt as dark and bitter as all the coffee he’d chugged between deliveries.

Forcing the scowl from his face, Web knocked on the door and called out “Room service!”, silently praying it wasn’t for another couple. Just get it over with, he reminded himself, then he could retreat to his cabin to feel sorry for himself while Liebgott mocked him.

The door opened and Web nearly dropped the tray in his hands when First Officer Speirs appeared, hair tousled like he'd just woken from a nap, wearing a ratty college t-shirt and sweatpants. If the sight of Speirs hadn't done things to him before, it most certainly was now. Speirs gave him a blank stare, gaze shifting back and forth between the tray and him. “You want a drink?”

Web blinked. “I, uh—” Thinking Speirs was addressing someone else, Web glanced around; the hall was empty. Speirs—the same Ron Speirs he’d nursed an unhealthy crush on for longer than he cared to admit—was asking _him_ if he wanted a drink. In his private cabin. It was a Christmas miracle and all Web could do was stare slack-jawed at him. _Smooth, Web, real smooth._

Speirs stepped back to let him in. His expression hadn’t changed, but once Web’s brain rebooted he recognized an exhaustion not unlike his own. As part of the bridge crew, he could only imagine the level of stress Speirs was always under with the shared responsibility of keeping a multi-million dollar ship and thousands of passengers safe, making his current problems seem like nothing by comparison.

“Where would you like me to set this?” Web asked, forcing himself to focus on his job. This was all wishful thinking as far as he knew. The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself in front of a guy—an officer no less—he was stuck on the same boat with for the next few months.

Spotting a stack of books on the nightstand, it occurred to him how little he knew about Speirs beyond what he’d overheard while serving the officers’ table at special dinners. Speirs was usually quiet then—polite when he did have something to say, but for the most part disinterested in the conversation of his peers—and his spartan cabin offered no further clues about the enigmatic man who piqued Web’s curiosity. What could he realistically hope for when they were all but strangers?

“Wherever,” Speirs answered with a flippant wave. He busied himself pouring a drink as Web set the tray on the small table by the couch. “Sorry if I startled you, by the way. Just looked like you’d had a shitty day too.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Web turned and took the offered glass, staring into the amber liquid. “It’s just been a _really_ long day and I didn’t expect it is all.”

“This won’t get you into trouble will it?”

Web snorted. "I should be asking you that." While fraternizing with fellow crew wasn't prohibited, the somewhat rigid hierarchy among the ship's employees frowned upon officers and low-level crew like himself mixing--doing so in privacy would make for juicy gossip if anyone noticed. He knew better than to entertain the idea of staying, but couldn't make himself leave.

Shrugging, Speirs leaned against the desk opposite the couch. "Nothing wrong sharing a drink with a coworker, but we could go to the crew bar if you'd prefer." Web wrinkled his nose. While less questionable, gossip was guaranteed that way and he didn't care for the idea of being teased for the foreseeable future. He wasn't the prudish nerd Liebgott razzed him about, but he preferred keeping his personal life under wraps, especially from big-mouthed roommates.

"Oh, no, I'd much rather be here." Speirs' eyebrows went up and Web mentally smacked himself. He hadn't meant it _that_ way. Well, not entirely anyway.

Speirs smiled behind his glass. "So make yourself comfortable.”

Of his two options—the couch only large enough for two people and the unmade bed—Web opted to perch on the arm of the couch. ’Comfortable’ wasn't the word he’d use to describe it, but the discomfort was a good reminder to behave while the liquor convened with the caffeine in his blood and threatened to make him do something he might later regret.

“This your plan all along?” Web teased, breaking the awkward silence that'd fallen between them. “Order room service and maybe get someone to keep you company?”

“Well, not until I saw it was you.”

Web choked on his drink. "Really?" he spluttered.

"Don't act so surprised." Speirs pushed away from the desk, glass and bottle in hand, and nudged Web over so he could sit on the couch. He threw an arm over the back of the couch, though it didn't escape Web's notice that he was careful to maintain some distance between them as he refilled their glasses. “You think I haven't noticed you checking me out at dinner?”

"Keeping an eye on diners is part of my job," Web answered coolly.

"Sure, when they're you're table." Speirs' pointed look made Web want to burst into flames from embarrassment. So much for thinking he'd been discreet.

"It doesn't bother me, if that's what you're thinking. In fact, I'd wanted to talk to you tonight after dinner but you disappeared before I had a chance." He reached over to uncover the forgotten plate and Web swallowed a laugh. Cookies--the intimidating, mysterious officer who'd sparked numerous rumors among the lower ranking crew had wanted chocolate chip cookies at three in the morning.

Web grabbed a cookie when Speirs pushed the plate in front of him, willing himself not to shove the entire thing in his mouth. He always ate a big meal ahead of the first dinner seating to get himself through both seatings, and grabbed something else afterward. Tonight, though, he'd returned to the kitchen without a snack in between and was running on fumes. No wonder he’d been extra grumpy the last few hours.

"Ask away," Web said around a mouthful of cookie. They weren't anywhere near as good as some he'd had but food was food right about now.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink sometime, but here you are. So I guess my next question would be what in the world you were doing still working?" A shiver rolled up Web's spine when Speirs' fingertips brushed his shoulder. This was really happening. He could do this. _Stay cool._

"Favor for a friend," Web said, inching closer until their legs touched. "There'd been talk his boyfriend might propose since it was their anniversary and I didn't want him to miss out."

"He could ask some other time."

"Well that's not romantic."

Speirs asked, draping his arm over Web's shoulder. "Is that what you want--romance?"

Web leaned into him, relieved when Speirs pulled him closer. "It'd be nice, don't you think?"

"Sure. But experience has proven I can't have that and my career, so I don't pursue it anymore."

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Web didn't always like having to share his living space with someone, but it kept his loneliness at bay. And though he'd never admit it out loud, he enjoyed Liebgott's company for reasons he couldn't identify.

"I'm not lonely right now."

"True, but what about the rest of the time?"

"Web. Do you want me to kiss you, or keep talking?"

Heat flared in Web's cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he lifted his chin and met Speirs' lips.

The gentleness of the first kiss took him by surprise, the second took his breath away. By the third and the fourth it was all he could do to stop himself from yanking Speirs down on top of him. Maybe later, maybe never, he didn't really care because he was too lost in the simple pleasure of kissing and being kissed, of the warmth between them, and the contrast of soft lips and the burn of stubble scraping skin. He should’ve felt rushed and eager to move on, but all he wanted was to continue existing in this moment.

Speirs pulled him into his lap, his brain again threatening to short circuit when fingers dug into his back and kneaded the aching muscles along his spine. He moaned into Speirs’ mouth.

Web whined when the massage stopped several minutes later. Before he could say anything, though, Speirs lifted him. Startled, Web hugged his neck as they turned, hanging tight even as he fell backwards onto the bed and pulled Speirs with him.

Exhaustion consumed Web the moment he settled into the bedding. He couldn’t suppress a yawn, praying Speirs didn’t notice.

Speirs propped himself up on an elbow. “Now, I know it’s been awhile but am I really that bad at this?”

“Oh God, no, not at all. I just—” Speirs silenced him with a chaste kiss that made Web want to cry in frustration. Everything had been going so well and of course he had to go and ruin it.

“Let’s try this again some other night when we’re not burnt out, okay?” He offered Web an apologetic smile.

Unable to look Speirs in the eye, Web rolled away from him to get up and leave. This had been a bad idea anyway. He wouldn’t find what he truly wanted here. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to follow through when Speirs’ hand landed on his arm to stop him.

“Stay?”

* * *

Another night never happened. Web didn’t mind, though, because the one they’d had made a pretty nice memory. Instead of retreating to his room, Web had stayed. Curled together in bed and without the pressure to perform, the awkwardness melted. Even though things hadn't exactly turned out as he'd hoped, that night hadn't been a total loss--they’d walked away the next morning with the beginnings of friendship, and his friends had indeed gotten engaged. It was all somewhat bittersweet, but he was okay.

“You should talk to him,” Web shouted over the music. It was the annual after hours holiday party for the crew and it was in full swing with a live DJ and an open bar, promising a night many of them wouldn’t remember in the morning.

“Later!” Speirs shouted back.

Web rolled his eyes. During the ship’s last return to its home port of Miami, several of the crew had rotated out and were replaced with new members. One such replacement was Carwood Lipton, the new head of youth activities and current object of Speirs’ interest. While only a couple of weeks since Lipton arrived, Web recognized the love drunk look in his friend’s eyes that he’d once upon a time hoped would be directed at him. A small part of him still wished for that, but the more rational part of him understood he loved the idea more than the person. Lipton struck him as someone Speirs would hit it off with--if the idiot would go talk to him.

Web gave Speirs a playful shove. “Now.” _Before you spend so much time wishing for something to happen that you miss your chance._ Not that he had any personal experience with that.

He tried to ignore the mix of emotions as he watched Speirs introduce himself and the shy smile he got in return. Web turned away and went outside for some fresh air. It wouldn’t do him any good to spend more time thinking about what he couldn’t have.

“Yo, Poindexter, lighten up, would ya?”

“Fuck off, Lieb," Web threw over his shoulder. "Don’t you have a date to annoy anyway?” For as abrasive as he was, it mystified Web how his roommate was so popular that he was rarely unattached. A few weeks ago it’d been a guy from the sports activities staff; this week it was a new gift shop girl he’d bumped into—literally—at the welcome aboard party thrown at the beginning of each departure.

“Nope! You’re my date tonight.” Leibgott grabbed Web’s wrist and hauled him toward the crowd of revelers dancing.

“How do you know I wasn’t waiting for someone?”

“Please. Everybody knows you’re single,” Liebgott threw back. “Lucky me.” Despite the eyebrow waggle, the weird thing was he actually sounded sincere. Weirder yet was that Web liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please take a moment to leave a kudos and/or comment. The support is greatly appreciated. :)


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